


You Can Have Mine (Red vs. Blue S.13 Finale)

by Simbalvr123



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Chorus (Red vs. Blue), Chorus Trilogy (Red vs. Blue), Other, Post-Episode: S13e20 The End, Season/Series 13 Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-03
Updated: 2021-01-03
Packaged: 2021-03-13 01:34:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28520226
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Simbalvr123/pseuds/Simbalvr123
Summary: Spoilers for Red VS Blue's Season 13 Finale: The End!After the final battle aboard the Staff of Charon, Tucker has to come to terms with the loss of his friend, and goes to get a beer at the Chorus gas station...
Comments: 4
Kudos: 8





	You Can Have Mine (Red vs. Blue S.13 Finale)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [BDBriggs](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BDBriggs/gifts).



> (Thank you for showing me RVB!)
> 
> So, hello! I have been watching Red vs Blue with my friend over quarantine and never thought I would end up loving it as much as I did, but here I am posting my first RVB fanfiction! I've only watched up until Season 13 so far, so please don't post any comments about future episodes or inconsistencies with future plot lines! This is just my idea of what might have happened after watching the Season 13 Finale: The End. Spoilers of course if you haven't seen the Chorus Trilogy, and in which case, dude. Go see it. Thank you for reading and enjoy!

_“We’ve got this!”_  
  


Tucker brandishes his sword, facing the door which is about to be compromised by Charon’s forces. His friends border him, all ready with their own guns and weapons they stole from the Chairman’s psychotic collection. But even for his brave words, Tucker is scared. He’s already lost other men on the battlefield, but… The idea of losing _these men_? The soldiers he has fought with? Fought against? And then fought with again? …It’s terrifying. He looks to the A.I. on his left shoulder, his friend, Church. Or, as Tucker has now learned to call him, Epsilon.  
  
“We _do_ got this, right?”

Epsilon isn’t convinced at first, but soon reveals the final piece of the puzzle that he believes will help them survive. Tucker looks up in horror as it rises from the floor, and at once all of the other members stare agape with similar déjà vu. Standing before them, in a metal casket elevator, is the Meta. “What. The Hell.”

Epsilon quickly explains to him that he found it when he was scanning the room, and Tucker realizes it’s just the suit of armor, not the Meta himself. And then, to Tucker’s surprise, Epsilon says _his_ name. He wants _Tucker_ to wear it. While a bit hesitant at first, Tucker suits up, and soon becomes accustomed to the feeling of the new armor, the feeling of power it gives him. It feels… Badass. He’s badass. “I could get used to this…”  
  
The feeling is short lived. The door separating them and Charon’s forces is about to be breached. His friends speak of death and honor, the room is filled with the solemnity of a final stand. And this time, Tucker is ready too. As he prepares to fight, he hears a voice in his head. Epsilon’s voice.

“Hey, guys? Out of everyone I’ve ever met…” Epsilon pauses, “I hate you all the least.”  
  
Tucker smiles a bit at that, same ol’ Church. He readies his stance, sword blazing, his brand-new suit of armor shifting along with his muscles. “See you on the other side, Church!” Epsilon fazes out, falling silent.  
  
**_“FIRE!”_** In a split second, the door falls open, and men dressed in white all fire their guns. Bullets spray like raindrops all around them, and Tucker races forward to slash at the ones that dare to barge through. Sarge falls to the ground, buckling after a blow to one knee, Donut yelps as a blast fires close to his helmet. Lopez cries something out in Spanish, then his head goes flying off of his robotic body. Caboose is screaming and shooting wildly, and Freckles is firing a mixture of bullets and confetti, a humorous interruption between the fray. Grif is knocked down, Simmons kneels over him protectively, and Doc laughs manically as he fires his weapon.

Just when it seems as though they’ve already lost, Tucker hears a strangely youthful voice inside of his suit. _“Now!”_ He ducks, narrowly avoiding a blast of fire, and stabs at the soldier that came towards him. Then he hears another voice, _“Use the suit!”_ and another, “ _Camouflage, engaged.”_ and another, _“Bring them to their knees.”_ And two voices merged together, _“We believe in you...”_ Tucker experiences flashes of red, orange, yellow, green, cyan, and white. The suit seems to be running on its own now, slashing his sword, kicking, dodging attacks, and shielding him from enemy fire. By the time Tucker realizes that the suit has powered down, the voices in his head fizzle out to die and he stands alone, surrounded by the limp bodies of the Charon crew, and the weakened but thankfully _alive_ members of the Red and Blue teams.

“W-We won?!” Tucker lets out a nervous laugh, turning to the others. “We won! Hey, Church! We did it! Church!” It takes him a moment to catch his breath, and then he realizes that the comforting voice, the glow at his shoulder, is gone. “…Church? You there?” Tucker repeats, feeling a hollow emptiness in his chest.

 _“Excuse me.”_ A female voice interrupts, and everyone turns their heads to listen to the omnipotent elephant in the room, FILSS, the computer that runs this ship. _“But now that the Director is gone, he instructed me to report to you, Lavernius Tucker.”_

“The Director?” Tucker repeats in confusion, a frown behind his visor. How the fuck was _that_ supposed to make any sense?! The Director was _already_ gone, Church and Carolina killed him!

 _Church…_ Tucker feels his heart thud to a stop suddenly. FILSS had called Church ‘The Director’ earlier, hadn’t she? From what he had heard from Caboose and Wash, Epsilon was the memories of the Director, Church _was_ the Director. So, that could only mean… “Oh no…” Tucker reels and feels himself sway.

A hand lands on his shoulder, and Tucker looks up to see Wash. Carolina is beside him too, and down the hall, Tucker sees their trainees, firing their guns and shouting as they slaughter the remainder of the Staff of Charon’s crew. “We came as fast as we could.” Carolina says, “The Chairman is dead.”  
  
“We found him on the bridge when we boarded. There was no way we were letting him escape a second time…” Wash explains, still grasping Tucker’s shoulder, who despondently nods. “Hey…” Wash looks at him more closely. “Are you ok?”  
  
“…Church.” Tucker mutters at last, looking up at Wash and Carolina. “He’s… He’s not answering…”  
  
Carolina lets out a grunt of annoyance, “That stupid idiot…” She mutters irritably. “He probably used up all of his power again… Just wait until he comes back online, I swear...”  
  
_“The Director is gone.”_ FILSS says again, and the Freelancers jerk at her voice. _“Hello, Agents Washington and Carolina. The Director asked me to report to you as well.”_

“Report?” Washington repeats, and the rest of the team crowds around them and Tucker as well. “...Report what?”

 _“Private Tucker.”_ FILSS addressed him again, _“There is an audio recording from The Director saved inside of your suit. Permission to transfer it to my database and broadcast it?”  
_  
“…Uh, sure.” Tucker agreed, feeling confused, but then as soon as he does, he is not prepared for the transmission he hears over the ship’s loudspeakers.

 _“Hey, guys. If you’re hearing this, it means you did it… You won.”_ Church’s voice echoes hollowly throughout the vacant ship. _“You kicked the shit out of Hardgroves’ forces… I knew you could… But, this is my last stop…”_ Tucker feels his breath hitch in his throat at that sentence, and hears Carolina let out a soft gasp as well.

As the speech continues, they hear of how Epsilon needed to erase his memories and personality, split himself into fragments of a fragment, to power Tucker’s suit in order to help them win. The strange voices Tucker heard inside of his head suddenly make sense now… Wash pats Caboose on the back sadly, who has begun to wail loudly. Surprisingly, the members of the Red team come forward to grieve alongside them, trying their best to console each other.

Tucker looks over at Carolina, who hasn’t said a word, hasn’t shed a tear, until they hear the final words of Epsilon’s transmission. _“…The hero will never know if their sacrifice actually made a difference. They’ll never know if the day was really saved. In the end, they just have to have faith…”_ Then suddenly, Carolina collapses to the floor, rips off her helmet, and bangs her fist against the floor, sobbing through her red bangs. Wash runs over to comfort her, and the others rise and start mingling around as well, but Tucker stands perfectly still, numbly staring up at the ceiling, hiding his own drizzling tears behind the Meta’s tinted visor, listening to his friend’s last words to them all.

_  
“Ain’t that a bitch…”  
_

_< ->_

Tucker feels like he’s being stabbed by his own sword.

After learning what Epsilon did to save them, FILSS told Carolina and Wash that Epsilon had transferred all of his memory databases to her, as well as recovered the missing files from Project Freelancer that he had previously stolen. FILSS let them have full access to any databases they wished to revisit, and sometimes, they even helped patch a few holes with their own memories, such as the events that unfolded after the death of The Director.

Caboose recovered more quickly than the others expected, having both Freckles and Sheila back to bring up his mood. It took him awhile to get over the ‘Church is really gone’ thing, and Tucker’s pretty sure he’ll never fully be over it, but at least he’s up and about again, at least he’s laughing again. Smiling again.

Tucker hasn’t smiled since he heard Epsilon’s last words.

_‘I hate you all the least.’_

It hurts more now knowing that was his last goodbye. And Tucker didn’t even realize it. There were other recordings left by Epsilon, some were addressed to the New Republic, some to his teammates, some were more formal logs of the events that transpired, and some were even just rambling recordings of Church arguing with himself. But Tucker listened. To each and every one of them. Over. And over. And over again.

_‘Ain’t that a bitch’_ has been permanently engraved into his own memory.

Tucker now sits in the gas station on Chorus, drinking a bottle of beer. A second one sits on the opposite end of the table, unopened. Tucker knows the seat will remain vacant, but he holds on to the stupid idea all the same. He imagines Church will sit down with him, talk with him, chide him and laugh with him and screech at him… Like the good old days…

And then someone does sit down, and Tucker looks up in shock. It’s Washington. The grey and yellow clad Freelancer sighs heavily, looking pointedly over the table at Tucker. “Tucker. We need to talk.”

“Oh, great.” Tucker growls under his breath, taking another sip of his beer, “Let me guess… You want me to do a couple more laps? Go through the basics again? Hell, tell me to lift up the Warthog! Just try me, dude! I’m. Not. Up for it…”  
  
“I know…” Wash says somberly, “That’s exactly what we need to talk about.”  
  


Tucker realizes where this is going. “ _God_ , don’t tell me you’re gonna give me some sappy speech…” He groans, lying face down on the table in the crook of one arm.

  
“Yes. I am. You need it.” Wash points out, “We’ve won, Tucker... Chorus is free, The Chairman and The Director are finally dead, we’ve united the galaxy between humans and aliens alike, and yet one week later, you’re still sulking in this godforsaken gas station!”

  
“Yeah, we won alright!” Tucker slams his bottle down, glaring up at Wash. “But how many innocent people had to die for it, Wash?! What about Doyle, or Church, or all of the soldiers that died for this war?! We should be grieving them! Instead, every day in The New Republic is a celebration, and the Reds are flying the Staff of Charon back and forth to Earth like a _fucking joyride!”_

“We did grieve…” Wash reminds him, “We are _still_ grieving… But, Tucker… This isn’t healthy. If you keep this drinking act up, you’re going to end up as fat as Grif.”  
  
“Bullshit…” Tucker snarls, glaring up at him. “Why should I care?! _No one_ fucking cares anymore! Clearly, you only ever cared about Church because we all looked up to him. You want to _be_ like him! But you can’t! You can’t just _replace_ him, Wash! He’s gone!”  
  
“You’re right…” Washington says, surprising Tucker. “I did want to be like Church. But not for all the reasons you think, Tucker. I looked up to him too… He was The Director. He was the Alpha. He was Epsilon, _my_ A.I... I cared about him a lot more than you know…”

Tucker pauses for a moment, mulling it over. He looks up at Wash again, “Then, why were you the only one who didn’t react the day he…” Tucker stops himself, but the meaning is clear.  
  
“I did... I might not have shown it as much as Caboose or Carolina, but when Epsilon left us, I lost a part of myself with him…” Washington sighs, uncapping the bottle of beer on his end of the table. And for the first time, Wash removes his helmet. Tucker sees his faded blond hair, freckled face, and a pair of glistening, shadowed blue eyes. “…Epsilon nearly killed himself inside my head once before, Tucker. He was tortured with the pain of memory, and so was I. His memories became my memories, his pain became my pain, his voice became my voice. And when that voice died…” Washington glanced up at him, tears dripping down his cheeks. “I know _exactly_ what you’re going through, if not even more…” He lifted the beer bottle up with a shaking hand, and takes a long swig.

Tucker fell silent, gripping his own bottleneck tightly. “I-I heard more than just Epsilon…” He admits, his hands shuddering violently. “They weren’t just Church’s voice, there were… others. Sure, I’ve seen glimpses before, heard them before, but… I’ve never experienced something like that. They guided me through that last stand. They ran the suit for me. And then they were all gone… It’s awful to even think about, but…” Tucker looks up at Washington, his eyebrows furrowing as he tried to dam the rising tears. “Wash, I think Church died because of _me_ …”

Washington reached a hand across the table, firmly grasping Tucker’s own. “No, Tucker. Church died for all of us. He did what he thought was best, and he was already starting to fail… A.I.s are only supposed to last a couple of years. Epsilon lasted a lot longer than anyone could have expected him to…”

“But _I_ was in the Meta’s suit…” Tucker glared up at him. “And I wouldn’t have even needed to wear it if Church hadn’t told me to. I think he was trying to protect me! And while, yeah, I’m glad I’m not dead, a part of me kinda wishes I was…”

Wash sighed and looked bitterly up at Tucker. “That all might be true… But Epsilon still made that choice. He _wanted_ to protect you. He knew the cost of his actions, he knew the stakes and risks, he could calculate it all within a fraction of a second… And he still chose to save your life instead of his own. He trusted _you_ to wear the Meta’s suit. He knew _you_ would be the new Blue team leader…”

Tucker falls silent again, and Washington pulls something small out of his pocket.

“Here… It’s a memory drive of some files Carolina and I found in FILSS’ database earlier. I think you should hear it for yourself.”

Tucker took it begrudgingly, turning it over in the palm of his hand. The flash-drive Wash handed him was merely labelled by his name.

Tucker let it play back to him through his helmet radio, and wasn’t prepared for what he heard…

_< 𝚁𝚎𝚌. 𝚂𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚝>_

𝙴𝚙𝚜𝚒𝚕𝚘𝚗: 𝙷𝚎𝚢, 𝙳. 𝙸𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐?

𝙳𝚎𝚕𝚝𝚊: 𝚁𝚎𝚌𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐.

There was a long pause, and for a moment Tucker wasn’t sure if the recording ended as soon as it started, then he suddenly heard,

𝙴𝚙𝚜𝚒𝚕𝚘𝚗: 𝙶𝚘𝚍 _𝙳 𝙰 𝙼 𝙽_ 𝚒𝚝… 𝙳𝚎𝚕𝚝𝚊, 𝙸 𝚌𝚊𝚗’𝚝 𝚍𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜.

𝙳𝚎𝚕𝚝𝚊: 𝙷𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚗𝚎𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠… 𝚆𝚎 𝚍𝚘𝚗’𝚝 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚖𝚞𝚌𝚑 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎 𝚕𝚎𝚏𝚝.

A new voice, a youthful voice, one of the voices that Tucker had heard in his suit, spoke next.

𝚃: _𝙹𝚞𝚜𝚝_ _𝚜𝚊𝚢_ _𝚢𝚘𝚞’_ _𝚛𝚎_ _𝚜𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚢…_

𝙴𝚙𝚜𝚒𝚕𝚘𝚗: 𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚝𝚊, 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎’𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚏𝚘𝚛 _𝚖𝚎_ 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎 𝚜𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚢 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝! 𝚃𝚞𝚌𝚔𝚎𝚛 𝚑𝚊𝚜 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚑𝚎 𝚘𝚠𝚗𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚎 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝙸 𝚕𝚎𝚏𝚝! 𝙷𝚎 𝚒𝚜𝚗’𝚝 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚊 𝚐𝚘𝚘𝚏𝚋𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚠𝚑𝚘 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎𝚜 𝚋𝚊𝚍 𝚜𝚎𝚡 𝚓𝚘𝚔𝚎𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚘𝚗𝚎-𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎! 𝙷𝚎’𝚜 _𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚍_!

Tucker winces a bit as Church’s voice cadences upwards in anger, and after a slight pause, he hears Church sigh.

𝙴𝚙𝚜𝚒𝚕𝚘𝚗: 𝙷𝚎’𝚜… 𝙱𝚎𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚊 𝚕𝚘𝚝 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚖𝚎, 𝚢𝚊 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠? 𝙸 𝚖𝚎𝚊𝚗, 𝚑𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚝𝚘𝚘𝚔 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚐𝚎 𝚊𝚏𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝙸 𝚐𝚘𝚝 𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚍 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚎𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚢 𝚞𝚗𝚒𝚝. 𝙱𝚎𝚌𝚊𝚖𝚎 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚌𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚞𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚍𝚞𝚝𝚒𝚎𝚜 𝚊𝚜 𝚊 𝚜𝚘𝚕𝚍𝚒𝚎𝚛. 𝙸 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚊 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚆𝚊𝚜𝚑 𝚑𝚊𝚍 𝚊 𝚕𝚘𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚍𝚘 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝. 𝙱𝚞𝚝 𝚑𝚎 𝚊𝚕𝚜𝚘 𝚐𝚛𝚎𝚠 𝚞𝚙. 𝙷𝚎 𝚑𝚊𝚜 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚊𝚐𝚎, 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚜𝚙𝚒𝚛𝚒𝚝… 𝙷𝚎 𝚌𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚜 𝚊 𝚕𝚘𝚝 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚎𝚊𝚖, 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝙸 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚑𝚘𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚕𝚢 𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚗 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖. 𝙸’𝚟𝚎 𝚜𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚜𝚞𝚕𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍 𝚊𝚏𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚗𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚝 𝙲𝚛𝚊𝚜𝚑 𝚂𝚒𝚝𝚎 𝙰𝚕𝚙𝚑𝚊… 𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝚊𝚜 𝚖𝚞𝚌𝚑 𝚊𝚜 𝙸 𝚑𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚒𝚝… 𝚆𝚎 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 _𝚜𝚘 𝚌𝚕𝚘𝚜𝚎_ 𝚝𝚘 𝚐𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚍𝚊𝚝𝚊 𝚠𝚎 𝚗𝚎𝚎𝚍𝚎𝚍, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚑𝚎 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚎𝚠 𝚒𝚝 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚍𝚛𝚘𝚙 𝚘𝚏 𝚊 𝚝𝚎𝚕𝚎𝚙𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚌𝚞𝚋𝚎!

𝙳𝚎𝚕𝚝𝚊: 𝙴𝚙𝚜𝚒𝚕𝚘𝚗…

𝙴𝚙𝚜𝚒𝚕𝚘𝚗: 𝙰𝚕𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝, 𝙸 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠… 𝙸 𝚐𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝙸 𝚌𝚊𝚗’𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚖𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚗𝚎𝚍 𝚒𝚏 𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚊𝚍𝚗’𝚝 𝚜𝚊𝚟𝚎𝚍 𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚊𝚜𝚜𝚎𝚜 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎. 𝙱𝚞𝚝 𝚃𝚞𝚌𝚔𝚎𝚛… 𝙷𝚎 𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚔𝚎𝚍 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚊𝚍 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚋𝚎𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚎. 𝙸𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚊𝚜 𝚒𝚏 𝚑𝚎 𝚔𝚗𝚎𝚠 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚔𝚎𝚜 𝚋𝚎𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝙸 𝚍𝚒𝚍. 𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝙸 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝’𝚜 𝚒𝚖𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚋𝚕𝚎, 𝚋𝚞𝚝, 𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚞𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝. 𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚊 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚌𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚊𝚐𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚠𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝, 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚒𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚜𝚘 𝚜𝚖𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝙸 𝚍𝚒𝚍𝚗’𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚒𝚝. 𝙱𝚞𝚝… 𝙸 𝚍𝚘 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚒𝚏 𝚃𝚞𝚌𝚔𝚎𝚛 𝚑𝚊𝚍𝚗’𝚝 𝚝𝚎𝚕𝚎𝚙𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚞𝚜 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎, 𝚠𝚎 𝚖𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚕𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝚑𝚒𝚖…

𝙴𝚙𝚜𝚒𝚕𝚘𝚗: 𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝙸 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚕𝚎𝚝 𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚍𝚒𝚎…

_< 𝚁𝚎𝚌. 𝙴𝚗𝚍>_

Tucker takes the time to mull over what was said for a minute, the pit growing deeper in his stomach. He’s bitterly reminded of what happened at Outpost 22, bitterly reminded of what happened to Cunningham... The fact that Church acknowledges that Tucker might have been right after all stings even more than his denial. He starts to think that he never should have listened to this in the first place, and is about to turn off his radio, when suddenly a new recording cuts in.

_< 𝚁𝚎𝚌. 𝚂𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚝>_

𝙴𝚙𝚜𝚒𝚕𝚘𝚗: 𝙰-𝚑𝚎-𝚑𝚎𝚖… 𝙰𝚕𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝. 𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚒𝚜 𝙴𝚙𝚜𝚒𝚕𝚘𝚗, 𝙰.𝙸. 𝚄𝚗𝚒𝚝 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚁𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙱𝚕𝚞𝚎 𝚂𝚘𝚕𝚍𝚒𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝙿𝚛𝚘𝚓𝚎𝚌𝚝 𝙵𝚛𝚎𝚎𝚕𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚎𝚛. 𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚒𝚜 𝚊 𝚙𝚛𝚒𝚟𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚖𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚊𝚐𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝙻𝚊𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚞𝚜 𝚃𝚞𝚌𝚔𝚎𝚛. 𝙰𝚗𝚢 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚘𝚗𝚜 𝚘𝚛 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚘𝚗𝚗𝚎𝚕 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚋𝚎 𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚊𝚌𝚌𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚏𝚒𝚕𝚎 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚒𝚛𝚜𝚝 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚎, 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚒𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚍𝚘, 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚞𝚗𝚒𝚝 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏-𝚍𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚞𝚌𝚝 𝚒𝚖𝚖𝚎𝚍𝚒𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚕𝚢.

There’s another. Long. Pause. Then, finally, he hears a long sigh.

𝙴𝚙𝚜𝚒𝚕𝚘𝚗: 𝙰𝚕𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝, 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚋𝚎 𝚊 𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚐 𝚎𝚗𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑 𝚙𝚊𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚍𝚎𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚊𝚗𝚢 𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚎𝚛𝚜… 𝙷𝚎𝚢, 𝚋𝚞𝚍𝚍𝚢… 𝚂𝚘, 𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚗… 𝙸 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚠𝚎’𝚟𝚎 𝚑𝚊𝚍 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎𝚜 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚊𝚜𝚝. 𝙸 𝚗𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚔𝚗𝚎𝚠 𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚝𝚘 𝚎𝚡𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚖𝚢 𝚎𝚖𝚘𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜, 𝚎𝚡𝚌𝚎𝚙𝚝 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚛 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚛𝚊𝚐𝚎 𝙸 𝚐𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚜… 𝙱𝚞𝚝, 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚘𝚏𝚏 𝚖𝚢 𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚜𝚝. 𝙹𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚒𝚗 𝚌𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝚍𝚎𝚏𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝙼𝚎𝚛𝚌𝚜 𝚍𝚘𝚎𝚜𝚗’𝚝 𝚐𝚘 𝚊𝚜 𝚠𝚎𝚕𝚕 𝚊𝚜 𝚠𝚎’𝚟𝚎 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚗𝚗𝚎𝚍 𝚒𝚝 𝚝𝚘…

𝙴𝚙𝚜𝚒𝚕𝚘𝚗: 𝙹𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚘𝚛𝚍, 𝙸 𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚑𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚐𝚞𝚝𝚜. 𝙱𝚞𝚝, 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠, 𝚊 𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚕𝚎 𝚕𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚗 𝚋𝚎𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚎… 𝙸 𝚍𝚘𝚗’𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝’𝚜 𝚐𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚗 𝚘𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚠𝚎 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝙲𝚘𝚖𝚖𝚞𝚗𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚃𝚘𝚠𝚎𝚛 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚋𝚛𝚘𝚊𝚍𝚌𝚊𝚜𝚝 𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚖𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚊𝚐𝚎 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝙷𝚊𝚛𝚍𝚐𝚛𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚊𝚌𝚛𝚘𝚜𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚐𝚊𝚕𝚊𝚡𝚢. 𝚆𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚋𝚎 𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚝𝚊𝚔𝚎𝚗 𝚒𝚗 𝚊 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚋𝚎𝚊𝚝, 𝚊𝚗𝚍… 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚍𝚒𝚎. 𝙸’𝚖 𝚑𝚘𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚕𝚢 𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚙𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞’𝚟𝚎 𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚐, 𝚊𝚗𝚍… 𝚂𝚝𝚘𝚙 𝚒𝚝. 𝙸 𝚊𝚕𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚢 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚢𝚘𝚞’𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚝…

Tucker doesn’t mean to, but he laughs. ‘Bow chicka bow wow…’ he whispers to himself. But as Church keeps talking, his smile gradually fades.

𝙴𝚙𝚜𝚒𝚕𝚘𝚗: 𝚆𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝙸’𝚖 𝚝𝚛𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚊𝚢 𝚒𝚜, 𝙸 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍𝚗’𝚝 𝚋𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚢 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎 _𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚍_ 𝚘𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞… 𝚈𝚘𝚞’𝚟𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚊 𝚐𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝 𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛, 𝚃𝚞𝚌𝚔𝚎𝚛. 𝙼𝚊𝚢𝚋𝚎 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗 𝚋𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚗 𝚖𝚎… 𝙸’𝚖 𝚜𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚢 𝙸’𝚟𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚜𝚞𝚌𝚑 𝚊𝚗 𝚊𝚜𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚕𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚢𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚜… 𝙸 𝚐𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚜𝚘 𝚞𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚗 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚐𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝, 𝚊𝚜 𝚜𝚘𝚘𝚗 𝚊𝚜 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚎𝚕𝚜𝚎 𝚝𝚘𝚘𝚔 𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛, 𝙸 𝚐𝚘𝚝 𝚓𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚘𝚞𝚜. 𝙱𝚞𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞’𝚟𝚎 𝚑𝚘𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚕𝚢 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚗 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚊 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚛𝚗 𝚒𝚗 𝚖𝚢 𝚜𝚒𝚍𝚎, 𝚢𝚘𝚞’𝚟𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚊 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚛𝚗 𝚒𝚗 𝚖𝚢 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚝. 𝙸 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍𝚗’𝚝 𝚋𝚎 𝚠𝚑𝚘 𝙸 𝚊𝚖 𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚒𝚏 𝚒𝚝 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚗’𝚝 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙲𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚘𝚜𝚎, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙸 𝚌𝚎𝚛𝚝𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚕𝚢 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍𝚗’𝚝 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚍𝚎 𝚊𝚜 𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚢 𝚏𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚜… 𝙸 𝚗𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚆𝚊𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚝𝚘𝚗 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚗 𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚎 𝚊𝚐𝚊𝚒𝚗. 𝙸 𝚗𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝙲𝚊𝚛𝚘𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚊 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚛𝚞𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚖𝚎 𝚘𝚛 𝚕𝚎𝚝 𝚖𝚎 𝚏𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚑𝚎𝚛. 𝙸 𝚗𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚂𝚊𝚛𝚐𝚎, 𝙳𝚘𝚗𝚞𝚝, 𝚂𝚒𝚖𝚖𝚘𝚗𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙶𝚛𝚒𝚏 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚊𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚐𝚜𝚒𝚍𝚎 𝚖𝚎. 𝙱𝚞𝚝… 𝙸’𝚖 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚐𝚕𝚊𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚢𝚎𝚍 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚍𝚒𝚍. 𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚗𝚜 𝚝𝚘𝚍𝚊𝚢, 𝙸 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍𝚗’𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚍𝚒𝚎 𝚏𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚐𝚜𝚒𝚍𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚎𝚕𝚜𝚎… 𝚂𝚘, 𝚞𝚑… 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠. 𝚃𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚔𝚜…

𝙳𝚎𝚕𝚝𝚊, 𝚎𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚖𝚎, 𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎…  
  
_ <𝚁𝚎𝚌. 𝙴𝚗𝚍>_

As soon as the final recording ends, Tucker finally breaks, leaning his head on the tip of the beer bottle and sobbing quietly as Wash grips his hand tightly, both simply sitting and grieving the loss of their friend…

And when the night was done, and their condolences to one another were said, Tucker finally rejoined the others. Caboose welcomed him back with a big hug and said that Freckles missed him, the Reds returned from Earth with Sister on board to visit Chorus, and Wash didn’t make him run as many laps in training this time, whatever the hell they’re even training for...

And Tucker… Well, Tucker lives again. He still misses Church, hell, who doesn’t? But Tucker knows now that his friend would want him to keep going. To keep fighting any last punches the galaxy sends them, any shit that life still throws at them…With his friends by his side, Tucker knows they can win.

And even if they don’t, well… Tucker wouldn’t want to die fighting alongside anyone else.


End file.
